


All Things Green

by RcA



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, fun with plants, maybe this warrants a T rating after all, not that kind of fun, some suggestive themes, still on the fence about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-07 12:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RcA/pseuds/RcA
Summary: Daesung has always had a way with plants.





	All Things Green

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this moodboard](http://dae-dreamxx.tumblr.com/post/166718499095/bias-moodboard-i-was-tagged-by) at Tumblr. 
> 
> I don't know anything about plants, why did I write this fluff fest. Also I hate that this is G, but a few bad words from Seunghyun isn't really enough to up the rating to T, is it? Is it??
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a fictional work based on the public personas of real people, over whom I make no claim and to whom I mean no harm. Just having a little fun with them.

 

 

 

Daesung has always had a _way_ with plants.  
  
Seunghyun doesn't understand it, can't make sense of it, sometimes still struggles to believe it... but Daesung isn't alarmed by it, never has been, and so neither is he. And anyway, with that smile of his, as bright as summer sunlight, is it really so hard to accept that Daesung would draw the attention of all things green and growing?  
  
Seunghyun keeps that last bit to himself as he ambles along at his friend's side. Today they're at the local market on a spur-of-the-moment snack run. They got what they came for, but strangely, Daesung doesn't seem ready to leave. Though they're nearing the front of the store and the registers are in sight, by the way his head swivels, as if searching for something, Seunghyun knows he's going to take them on a last-second detour moments before he does.  
  
He trails behind as Daesung veers sharply to the left and thinks, _damn, feels good to be right._  
  
They end up in the garden center, with Daesung sending a look over his shoulder that's as eager as it is apologetic. Seunghyun keeps pace, making no attempt at all to hide his knowing grin. At least one of them is predictable.  
  
It's become a ritual of sorts for Daesung to pass through here on his way around the store. Seunghyun stopped asking _why_ long ago; they've been together for years, and that's proven more than enough time to learn his boyfriend's habits, to see for himself why he likes to walk the aisles once, maybe twice for good measure. To get a feel for the plants and to let them feel him.  
  
And _feel_ him they do.  
  
When he strolls down the aisle it's as if they reach for him, bending and stretching after him as he passes, growing in his direction, their leaves oscillating like fingers yearning to touch him-- or beckoning him to touch them. Seunghyun trots after him, and when they reach the end together he turns and finds the aisle overgrown, the path they've walked now crowded with leafy greens and spots of brilliant color, the air fragrant with the perfume of flowers in full bloom.  
  
It's an astonishing sight-- and a familiar one. If he wasn't so used to it by now, the sight of these _plants_ visibly straining to make contact, he would find it downright fucking creepy.  
  
According to Daesung, this is an everyday occurrence if he forgets to keep an eye on his surroundings. When his mind wanders so does he, he says, recounting the times his feet have taken him straight into a patch of plants that, once they had him, didn't want to give him up. Seunghyun laughs at that, and Daesung joins in... but it feels forced somehow, the sound stiff and uneasy, and only then does Seunghyun see his predicament.  
  
As if dodging fans in public isn't bad enough, Daesung has to dodge plants too? No wonder he never leaves home except for work.  
  
Seunghyun doesn't envy him his... gift, or whatever it is. He gets plenty of attention already, he reminds himself, pretending he doesn't feel just a little bit shunned by how they fawn over Daesung when he comes near but won't so much as twitch for _him_...  
  
It's okay. If the plants want to play favorites, so be it. He's never had much of a green thumb anyway.  
  
The thing is, neither has Daesung.  
  
"I don't know why they like me. They just do," Daesung tells him, touching a curious finger to the petals of a flowering orchid.  
  
They've been over this so many times Seunghyun is surprised he still answers him when asked. But he wants-- no, _needs_ answers. And he can't understand why Daesung doesn't.  
  
He guesses that after twenty-eight years he's learned to stop seeking answers and just live with it. To accept that it simply is and can't be helped and carry on  
  
Seunghyun though... Seunghyun needs to know.  
  
"And it's always been this way," he prompts, pushing for more.  
  
Daesung nods, his eyes never leaving the orchid as, slowly, it tilts in his direction, tipping its crown of flowers into his touch.  
  
"What about your parents? They've gotta know something."  
  
Daesung's tongue pokes out to wet his lips, buying himself some time before answering.  
  
"Oh, they do. My dad still thinks it's freaky but my mom loves it," he admits, "I think she half-expected it, either in me or my sister. Runs in the family or something."  
  
"You're telling me all of this," Seunghyun makes a sweeping gesture at the explosion of greenery around them, "is _genetic?_ "  
  
Daesung pulls away to scratch at his neck. The orchid's leaves droop in displeasure, the connection cut.  
  
"She told me stories when I was little, about my... great grandmother? Great great grandmother? I forget which. Said I had what she had."  
  
"Sounds like it skipped a few generations," Seunghyun muses. It's funny to think that the secret to Daesung's strange talent might be locked away in his DNA, a latent ability lying in wait for the right host. "Some kind of family blessing?" _Or curse_ , he doesn't add.  
  
"Something like that," Daesung says on the end of a sigh, and there's something unspoken in that soft smile of his. His hand drifts back to the orchid, a single fingertip tracing the edge of one fragile petal, and Seunghyun wonders, does he feels the pull too? Does the attraction go both ways?  
  
_Snap out of it_ , he tells himself sternly. Whatever magic Daesung possesses works on more than just plants, Seunghyun isn't immune to it. But there's no sense in getting jealous over a _flower_.  
  
"You're not some superhero in disguise, are you? Singer by day, plant whisperer by night," he asks, feigning wonder. "...Or would it be the other way around? Plant powers probably don't work very at night, do they?"  
  
"I don't have _powers_ ," Daesung laughs, "They come to me when they want to. I can't make them do anything."  
  
"Huh, plants are like cats. Who knew."  
  
"And I can't do anything for them, not really. Except maybe help them be healthy and happy," Daesung says, his voice wistful. Then, so softly Seunghyun isn't sure he means to be heard at all, "But that's enough for me."  
  
Seunghyun watches him dote on the orchid a little longer, spoiling it with soft strokes up and down its brilliant green stem. Seunghyun never knew what happy looked like on a plant until he met Daesung.  
  
"I think I know why they're drawn to you."  
  
He leaves it at that, but he's sure Daesung understands. He always does. That shy smile of his bursts open until he's beaming at Seunghyun with a radiance that rivals the sun. And that's it-- Seunghyun doesn't think twice before he's swooping in and taking some of that warmth for himself.  
  
As he does, a flutter catches his eye: it's the orchid trembling in delight.

 

 

\--

 

 

Others are similarly affected. Youngbae, the one among them who actually likes gardening and grows flowers off his front porch in his free time, never passes up an opportunity to drag Daesung along to his favorite florist. The shopkeeper lights up at the sight of him, very much like the flowers she sells. They always appear to flourish in the wake of his visits, their pigment richer, their appearance livelier, their aroma sweeter than ever. All it takes is having him near.  
  
_As if his presence itself is actual sunshine_ , Seunghyun thinks, not caring how sugary it sounds because this isn't the first time he's has such saccharine thoughts about Daesung and it sure as hell won't be the last.  
  
He tags along sometimes because it's great entertainment, especially when there are others nearby to witness it. Watching their surroundings come alive around Daesung is like something straight out of a movie.  
  
But there are no special effects here. This is real.  
  
Today it's just the two of them, making a quick stop at Youngbae's favorite flower shop without, well, Youngbae. It was unplanned; they just happened to be in the area. But if he finds out they dropped by without him...  
  
"He won't care," Daesung assures him, and Seunghyun wonders how he manages to be composed. Not that he's afraid of Youngbae or anything... "Besides, I'm pretty sure he gets a discount for every time I come around, whether he's with me or not."  
  
Seunghyun laughs, surprised. That doesn't seem like something Youngbae would do; he wonders how that deal was worked out.  
  
"Celebrities don't need discounts."  
  
Daesung shrugs. "I wouldn't turn one down."  
  
"That's because you're a penny-pincher," Seunghyun counters and tries not to think about New York.  
  
He hadn't even wanted to stay, much less pay for them all.  
  
"I am not!" Daesung cries, but he tucks his chin to his chest and grins down at the lines in the sidewalk, and that's as good as admitting defeat. "I'm just... saving up."  
  
"For what?"  
  
But then Daesung is pulling the door open and hurrying through, and the bell that chimes above them signals the end of that conversation.  
  
By the time Seunghyun catches up to him, he's already been found and is being put to use. He watches, curious, as something is deposited in Daesung's cupped hands, just ceramic and potting soil and a few straplike leaves shooting skyward-- or they would be if they weren't drooping so severely at the ends. The florist gazes down at the withered plant with a profound sadness. Then up at Daesung with hope.  
  
Seunghyun cocks his head and considers its mottled leaves, doubtful.  
  
"I'm no expert, but that looks bad," he says, and promptly regrets opening his big mouth when she turns watery eyes on him.  
  
"Hmm," Daesung hums in thought, tactfully ignoring his faux pas as he cradles the pot in one hand and touches the other to the poor plant's weary, drooping stem. Even to Seunghyun's untrained eye, it's clearly on the verge of collapse. "Amaryllis?"  
  
"Yes. This one is-- well, it's special to me," the shopkeeper explains, wringing her hands anxiously. "It was an anniversary gift and it's the most brilliant thing this shop's ever seen when in bloom. I've stored and replanted the bulb every year for three years and have achieved beautiful blooms each time, but as you can see... no flowers this time.  I don't know if I've done something wrong or if there's something off about it... I'm just afraid it might be beyond saving. What do you think?"  
  
"Not too far gone, I think," Daesung murmurs, and it's subtle, but Seunghyun swears the plant perks up at the sound of his voice. "Give it more time in the sun. But not too much. On that ledge over there, by that window, if there's room."  
  
"The sun?" She seems skeptical. "But this is a shade plant; too much direct sunlight could hurt it."  
  
"This is just a feeling but... it seems a little depressed? As weird as that sounds." He laughs, flustered, and probably as puzzled by his unusual insight as the rest of them. "And I've never met a plant that didn't brighten up under the sun."  
  
_Met?_ Seunghyun purses his lips to keep the teasing in, though he can't hold the grin that spreads from ear to ear.  
  
"I'm not saying you should leave it there all day," Daesung continues, "Just give it a little light. And some extra love."  
  
"Or I could tempt you into coming by more often," the shopkeeper says-- then lifts a hand to her mouth a moment later, as if surprised and embarrassed by her own boldness. Daesung bows his head and smiles, but not at her, Seunghyun notes; his full attention is fixed on the ailing plant between his palms.  
  
He lays a gentle, appreciative-- and alright, _possessive_ hand over the small of Daesung's back as the three of them make their way to the front of the shop.  
  
The florist clears a spot at the large window facing the storefront and Daesung sets it down with care. Then he seems to stall, lingering there a moment longer as if unsure, and Seunghyun recognizes his reluctance to go. It's the weight of wondering if there's more he can do to help. Someway... somehow.  
  
He doesn't have those powers Seunghyun is always teasing him about. Just a passive ability, the outcome of which he can't always control.  
  
It isn't long before the uncertainty seems to pass, and Daesung draws away with a final, sympathetic stroke up one of the amaryllis's long leaves. The plant straightens up a bit at his touch-- but wilts again the moment they're apart.  
  
"Cheer up," he tells it with a hopeful smile, "Your mama's worried about you."  
  
"Maybe you could kiss it better," Seunghyun suggests, because that always seems to work when _he's_ feeling down... and just manages to avoid tripping over a basket of tulips when Daesung pushes him possibly a little harder than he meant to.  
  
...he'd be inclined to believe he did it on purpose, if Daesung hadn't apologized profusely after, to him and the shopkeeper and the poor plants Seunghyun had nearly clobbered.  
  
Outside, on the walk home, Seunghyun keep his excitement at bay any longer.  
  
"You totally have plant powers," he says, slinging a proud arm around Daesung's wide shoulders. " _Healing_ powers. And apparently you're also some kind of plant empath."  
  
"Hyung, _no_ , it's not like that," Daesung laughs, slouching a bit under his added weight... but Seunghyun knows it's all for show. He isn't _that_ heavy.  
  
"Then what is it like?"  
  
"I just... encouraged it?"  
  
Seunghyun's hand slides down Daesung's arm and curves around, burying fingers in the fabric of his fuzzy sweater until he's got a good grip and drags him in firmly against his own side. No matter who his admirers are, plants or other people, being forced to stand by and watch as others hang all over his boyfriend ain't easy. It's his turn now.  
  
"You spoke to it. To a plant."  
  
"You know what? Maybe I did," Daesung says, something scheming in the slant of his grin. "Plants are very good about privacy, didn't you know? The best at keeping secrets."  
  
"If you say so."  
  
"I tell them all of mine. Don't you?"  
  
Seunghyun's grip on Daesung's arm tightens in warning. "Be serious. I was asking a serious question."  
  
"No, you were trying to make me out as some crazy person who has conversations with plants," he chides, and he's-- well, he's absolutely right, and Seunghyun doesn't even feel bad about it, not one bit. "I can't talk to them, hyung. How would they even hear me?"  
  
_I don't know, how do they **feel** you?_  
  
"Somehow they always find you," Seunghyun grumbles, "Like you're sending out signals and you don't even know it." Is it too much to want Daesung all to himself?  
  
He sighs, giving up his grip on his soft sweater and settling for linking their arms instead. He'd hold his hand if he could, but they're not exactly alone out here and they still have several blocks to go before they make it to the privacy of Daesung's place.  
  
"So, humor me. How does it work, anyway?" He plasters on his most convincing _I'm listening_ face even though Daesung isn't looking his way while they walk. "I know they feel you and... and react to you." _Reach for you._ "But does it work both ways? Do you feel them too?"  
  
"A little bit. Barely." Daesung turns and squints at him, astute as always. "Hyung, what are you really asking?"  
  
Seunghyun pouts down at the sidewalk and finds some satisfaction in watching their strides align. He loves when they fall into step together without even trying. Life's little pleasures.  
  
"Nothing ever gets past you, does it."  
  
"Not when it comes to you, hyung," Daesung says and treats him to that megawatt smile of his.  
  
Forget holding his hand-- Seunghyun would kiss him right now if he thought he could get away with it.  
  
"Are they feeding off your energy?" He needs to make sure it's mutually beneficial, is all. Is it symbiotic or more one-sided? It wouldn't be fair, Seunghyun thinks, if Daesung was always giving and getting nothing in return.  
  
"If they are, I haven't noticed. It's never felt like a drain. They're just drawn to me?" His hands are restless, shuffling and re-shuffling the bouquet of daisies he'd been handed back at the flower shop on his way out the door as an impromptu thank-you from a very grateful, and still somewhat flustered, florist. "I don't mind though. Sometimes it's kind of nice?"  
  
"Fans everywhere you go."  
  
"These 'fans' don't follow me around waiting for photo ops, so yeah, it's definitely easier." Daesung brings the daisies to his face, probably to hide his soft-- and if Seunghyun is reading him right, pleased smile. "Seriously hyung, what's with the sudden interest?"  
  
Seunghyun straightens up, throws his shoulders back, stands a little taller.  
  
"Guess I just want to know what I'm up against." Apparently, nature itself.  
  
"You think I'd leave you for a plant?"  
  
"Not just one, no. Lots though? A whole world full of 'em?" Seunghyun plucks a flower from Daesung's miniature bouquet and slides it into his own dark hair. "I may be dashing but I'm just one man."  
  
Daesung snuffles into his flowers, laughing at him. The sound is musical and far more precious than any flower.  
  
"What am I going to do with a plant besides put it in a pot and look at it?"  
  
"I can think of a few things."  
  
"Oh my god," Daesung half-laughs, half-cries, bringing the flowers to his face again. "Don't, please don't."  
  
"Sorry. Could really use some brain bleach right now." Seunghyun blinks rapidly, trying in vain to banish the image of Daesung with ropes of vines encircling his wrists, arms stretched taut over his head, secured to the posts of his bed...  
  
It's all fun and games until your porn starts involving plants.  
  
"Oh, hyung," Daesung says, eyes crinkling up in mirth, "Plants may like me but they can't love me. Not like you do."  
  
And there's that sweet smile again, the one that sends Seunghyun's heart spinning until his feet slip out from under him and he comes crashing down on his head, dizzy with love.  
  
Doesn't Daesung know what he does to him? How easily he devastates him?  
  
Pulling his lip in under his teeth, Seunghyun imagines the kiss he'd like to plant on those lips: a big, wet one that could be heard down the street and around the block.  
  
He can't. He _can't_.  
  
"You're still coming over this weekend, right? When you see Youngbae tomorrow let him know he's invited too," Daesung says, and just like that the bubble pops, the spell is broken, Seunghyun's vision of launching at him and nibbling on _his_ lip instead of his own scatters like grains of sand dropped into the wind.  
  
"Yeah. Okay."  
  
"Also... you might notice when you walk in that I got a new jade tree. A gift from the hosts of Yasutomo, Yasuyo and Tomoko. I couldn't exactly say no." Daesung's eyes burn with mischief. "It's pretty handsome... for a plant. Try not to get too jealous."  
  
Seunghyun's hand shoots out and scrubs roughly through Daesung's hair, messing it all up and lighting up at the squawk of distress that follows. And then he's turning his head and leaning, falling, letting gravity take him the rest of the way toward planting a kiss high on his cheek, far back on his face just before it slopes into his ear.  
  
It happens so fast it's almost like it didn't. But Seunghyun's lips remember, replaying the memory of his smooth skin even as he's whipping around to check for bystanders.  
  
So much for self-restraint, Seunghyun thinks, his stomach sinking. That woman walking her dog at the end of the street, facing away-- where did she come from? Was she always there? And that open window halfway down the block. Had someone been standing there before? Watching them? What if they'd been recognized, what if there'd been a camera--  
  
Daesung doesn't usually tolerate public displays of affection, what if he's _angry_ with him--  
  
Daesung pushes the daisies into his sweaty palms.  
  
"They're nice, aren't they?"  
  
Startled-- and still recovering from his fright-- Seunghyun clutches the bundle to his chest.  
  
"I-- yes? Sorry, I didn't mean to--"  
  
But that's as far as he gets, whatever apology he was about to offer up dying on his lips when Daesung touches two fingers gingerly to where his impromptu kiss had landed, eyes burning into his. Then, holding Seunghyun's gaze steady, he brings those fingers to his own lips.  
  
Transferring the kiss.  
  
_It's okay_ , he mouths, before blowing it back like he's been known to do onstage.  
  
Burying his face in flowers, Seunghyun breathes deep.  
  
...until a second later Daesung leans in and ruins the moment with a single word.  
  
" _Smell~_ "  
  
Then they're both doubling over in wild, semi-crazed laughter at a dumb inside joke that somehow never gets old, and by the time Seunghyun remembers to lower the flowers from his face it's too late; he winds up both laughing and snorting pollen and sneezing his brains out all over the sidewalk, and it's an awful combination but it works, his worries forgotten.  
  
Daesung was off the mark about what cures a sudden case of the blues, Seunghyun realizes when his breath and thoughts have caught up to him.  
  
It isn't the sun. It's him.

 

 

\--

 

 

"Helloooo?"  
  
Seunghyun's hand closes around the bag of takeout he'd picked up at the restaurant down the street-- the best chicken wings in Seoul, Daesung calls them. Or maybe the "best" thing about the place is that it's within walking distance of his house. His house that Seunghyun is currently standing in, thanks to the spare key Daesung entrusted him with, enveloped in silence but for the crinkling plastic in his hand. No Daesung.  
  
He turns a questioning look on Youngbae.  
  
"Anything yet?"  
  
Youngbae pockets his phone with a shake of his head.  
  
Seunghyun feels himself frowning and pretends that the twisting of his stomach is from hunger and not concern for Daesung who, though on the reclusive side, can always be relied on to answer when called.  
  
"Hey Daesungie... anybody home?" Youngbae tries this time, but just like Seunghyun's earlier attempt it's no good; his question is met by the same uneasy silence.  
  
It's... disquieting.  
  
"Think he stepped out?"  
  
"This is Daesung we're talking about," Youngbae snorts. "He knew we were coming, right?"  
  
"Of course he knew, this was his idea," Seunghyun answers, fishing his phone out of his pocket to check compulsively for a sign-- a text, a missed call, anything. They had plans, but it's three in the afternoon and Seunghyun hasn't heard from him all day. His string of texts have gone unanswered, his calls to voicemail.  
  
He sets their lunch on the bar counter and scans the room for evidence of their friend.  
  
"Maybe he's in the shower," Youngbae suggests.  
  
"Could be." Seunghyun strains his ears for the sound of running water and tries not to think too hard about how if Youngbae wasn't here-- if it was just the two of them, him and Daesung-- he'd join him under the spray.  
  
"Maybe I'll sneak in and snap a pic. Add Daesung to the list, keep the game going." Then, with that shit-eating grin that consistently spells trouble for the rest of them, "Or maybe you'd rather do it."  
  
"I wouldn't even have to sneak in," Seunghyun counters, rising to the challenge. "He'd just open the door and let me in. You know that."  
  
"Even if you showed up with a camera in hand?"  
  
Seunghyun scoffs. He wouldn't do that to Daesung, just as Daesung would never do it to him. Not without his explicit permission anyway-- which he'd never give. He's lost his phone too many times to make the risk worth the reward. He always gets it back in the end, usually because member of their staff is sent running after it on his behalf, but what if it couldn't be recovered? What if it fell into the wrong hands?  
  
And anyway, why would he want to sit and stare at pictures when he can come on over and have the real thing?  
  
That's when he sees it.  
  
Beyond the bag of takeout, at the far end of the counter, a potted philodendron. He's appalled to see its broad, heart-shaped leaves, normally a vibrant, healthy green now streaked with brown, and the waxy sheen on its surface has gone dull.  
  
Daesung's plants never look like this-- so lackluster, so flat, so... maybe not dead, but dying. His house is full of them, they're his constant companions and he cares for them daily, when he can. And when he can't, well, he has hired help for that. Seunghyun has never seen his plants in such a state because the Daesung he knows and loves would never let them fall so far, not if he could help it.  
  
...but what if he couldn't?  
  
He lurches toward the stairs without a word, throat tight with some nameless fear. Distantly, he registers a second set of feet sprinting up the steps not far behind him, heavy against the wood.  
  
"Hyung!" Youngbae gasps, "What is it? Why are we running?"  
  
"Something's wrong."  
  
"What?"  
  
At the top Seunghyun stops and turns, motioning sharply to a dracaena near the railing.  
  
"Look," he says, pointing to its elongated leaves. Like the philodendron in the kitchen and the ferns hanging by the back window that looks out to the pool and the bamboo palm guarding the staircase, its leaves are dry and brittle and beginning to curl at the edges. As far as Seunghyun can tell, it looks like the life's been sapped right out of it, this plant that once stood tall and proud. He can't stand looking at it.  
  
It's all wrong. And something tells him Daesung is at the root of it all.  
  
"Didn't you see the one on the bar? It looked sick."  
  
"Yeah, right before you ran off, but I didn't think--"  
  
"Daesung's plants don't get _sick_."  
  
Youngbae studies the sorry-looking dracaena. "This one looks even worse," he says, his face grim as he comes to the same realization.  
  
He sends an apprehensive look down the hall toward Daesung's room, but Seunghyun doesn't see it-- because he's already halfway there.  
  
It's mid-afternoon, but inside Daesung's room it's dark as night: the blinds are shut, the curtains drawn, lights out.  Seunghyun finds himself fighting off a shiver when he nudges the door open just enough to squeeze through.  
  
"Daesung?" he asks, directing it at the lump on the bed. Even in the dark, that's definitely Daesung's fluff of hair poking out of the blankets he's buried himself under.  
  
"Hey... you okay under there?"  
  
The lump snuffles and curls further into his cocoon.  
  
"You? Sleeping in? Come on, you're freaking me out," Seunghyun says with a smile. Now at his bedside, he eases the covers down just enough to expose his friend's face. That's Daesung alright, but his eyes are closed and lips pulled tight, bound by what appears to be an agitated state of sleep.  
  
Seunghyun startles when an arm appears at his side-- didn't see it coming in the dark-- but settles as he realizes it's just Youngbae reaching past him to connect with Daesung's face with the same care he gives his garden of flowers. Youngbae may not share his unique affinity for growing things, but he doesn't have to; even without Daesung's mysterious plant powers, his skill with all things green is unrivaled.  
  
Daesung's mouth opens just enough for him to whisper an awfully feeble-sounding " _Hyung_."  
  
"Are you sick?" Youngbae asks in a kind tone, and finally Daesung stirs, awareness seeming to come to him in stages.  
  
"D'n't feel w'll," he manages through a mouth that refuses to form words properly, but his eyes crack open just enough that Seunghyun sees recognition in them and that's better than nothing.  
  
...until Seunghyun switches on a lamp and he retreats with a whimper.  
  
"Sorry," he says automatically, even though he doubts Daesung will hear it. He feels bad about bothering him like this, worse about hurting him, but if he's going to be any help at all to him he needs to be able to see.  
  
"It's flu season," Youngbae muses. "Think that's what you've got?"  
  
"Dunno."  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
Daesung grunts, and for a moment it seems that's all they're going to get out of him. But after a few moments of struggle he musters the energy for something slightly more coherent-- and considerably more informative.  
  
"Like I'll never get out of bed again," he croaks, and he sounds like he means it. "Kinda pukey too."  
  
Youngbae cracks a grin at that. Seunghyun would too if seeing Daesung feeling under the weather like this didn't make him so damn anxious. He lets his hand join Youngbae's in sweeping the damp hair off his face.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you had the flu?"  
  
"Didn't know until I woke up with it," Daesung groans and makes a concentrated effort to roll onto his side to face them. Seunghyun stares at his neck gleaming with sweat. "Been sleeping." His mouth twists in discomfort, reconsidering. "Sort of."  
  
"You should've said something. We would have let you sleep," Seunghyun says, voice thick with disapproval. Gingerly, he takes a seat beside Daesung on the bed. Looks like today is going to be a sick day. It's not what he'd hoped for but at least the mystery of his silence is solved.  
  
"By the look of things it's probably good that we came," Youngbae speaks up, his eyes roaming the room.  
  
Tearing his eyes from Daesung's pained face, Seunghyun has to agree with that assessment. Daesung's house abounds with plants, but he keeps a small collection right here in his room, nearer than the rest: a hoya with its five-pointed, star-shaped flowers sprawling atop his dresser, a neat row of spider plants lined up on the windowsill, a single ficus in the corner. Seunghyun thought before that the others outside the room were in bad shape, but in the low light from the desk lamp he sees that these privileged few have it worst of all.  
  
It's the proximity, he realizes with a sinking feeling. They share a connection and Daesung's sickness is bleeding across it; his suffering is theirs.  
  
How it would hurt him it if he knew that he's harming them without meaning to...  
  
He rests a hand on Daesung's brow, wondering whether or not he should say anything about the state of his plants.  
  
"Fuck," he hisses, "You're on fire."  
  
"Am I? I'm freezing," Daesung half-laughs, half-sobs, and through the layers of blankets Seunghyun feels his faint but steady trembling.  
  
"It's the fever," he murmurs just as Youngbae heads for the door, throwing a curt _be right back_ over his shoulder as he goes.  
  
Then it's just the two of them. _Now or never_ , Seunghyun thinks and lowers himself to the bed until he's on Daesung's level; gets in near enough to nuzzle the frown off his face; rubs his nose against his fever-hot skin until finally Daesung cracks a grin.  
  
"Nnn-- no, you'll get sick too." He tries to twist away when Seunghyun brings his mouth into play.  
  
"Don't care," Seunghyun says, and plants a determined kiss on the corner of his lips. He's all smiles now that fear is no longer what's driving him."Besides, it's probably too late for that."  
  
"I don't want it to be my fault if... if..." Daesung trails off, probably losing his train of thought.  
  
"If I'm gonna catch the flu from anyone," Seunghyun says stubbornly, "I want it to be you."  
  
"Nooo."  
  
"Yeeeees," Seunghyun sings back. "Give me your germs. C'mon, hand 'em over."  
  
Daesung laughs, and it's a dreadful, crackling sound, a far cry from that which Seunghyun knows and loves, but he wants him to do it again and again. The best medicine, right?  
  
Daesung's face screws up in sudden discomfort, his laughter abruptly dying.  
  
"You should, uh," he pants, breathing soft and shallow. "Hyung, you should... you should really go."  
  
"Do you really want me to?"  
  
Daesung is probably right; he should go, for the sake of his own health. But right now Seunghyun doesn't care about shoulds, he cares about wants. His and Daesung's. Because even as he tries to push him away, he's pretty sure Daesung actually wants him to stay.  
  
Seunghyun doesn't receive a reply, and that's all the answer he needs.  
  
Youngbae, when he returns, gives him a knowing look, something small and long and narrow in one hand, and a little white bottle in the other.  
  
"Open up," he instructs, and when Daesung obeys, slides the thermometer's tapered end under his tongue.  
  
Daesung eyes the thing sticking out of his mouth like he's never laid eyes on one in his whole life, all twenty-eight years of it.  
  
"I have a thermometer?"  
  
"New in the packaging. Unopened, unused." Youngbae holds a hand up, showing off a band-aid-wrapped finger. "Cut myself trying to get it open. Embarrassing, huh? I used one of your band-aids, hope you don't mind."  
  
"...I have band-aids?"  
  
Youngbae pats him on the side of the face but he doesn't seem to notice. His glazed eyes slide over to Seunghyun.  
  
"Your poor plants. They aren't faring too well," Seunghyun tells him, changing the subject while they wait for a reading. He can't hold it in, he's actually worried about the damn things. He also doesn't like how Daesung seems to be staring right through him.  
  
"They're..."  
  
"They're sick too. Same as you."  
  
"Mmmphver."  
  
Seunghyun pokes him in the side-- or where he believes his side to be under that heap of blankets. "Sorry, didn't catch that."  
  
"What _ever_ ," Daesung mutters, squinting up at the ceiling when Youngbae slips the thermometer out, "Never liked the... the smell of plants anyway."  
  
"You're definitely sick, that's proof right there," Youngbae decides as he inspects the thermometer's tiny screen.  
  
"I never said anything about the way they smell," Seunghyun says, grinning from ear to ear. "They do make for a sad sight though."  
  
"They don't have eyes," Daesung mumbles with just a hint of attitude, a smidgen of sass-- like they've been over this before, like Seunghyun should know this already.  
  
"I didn't say they did. Are you even listening to me?" Seunghyun sits up and gets a good look at him, his eyes now closed, his face almost serene. "Are you falling back asleep on me?"  
  
"I doubt he even knows what he's saying anymore. Look." Youngbae holds up the stick for him to see. "One-oh-three."  
  
"That's... pretty high, right?"  
  
"Little bit." He drops it to the bed and turns his attention back to Daesung, considering him. "You really don't want a fever any higher than that. We need to get it down."  
  
"How?"  
  
"First, this." Youngbae tugs at the covers. "Let's get these off--"  
  
"Wait--" Seunghyun moves to stop him, but--  
  
Too late.  
  
"Oh shit." Youngbae throws the blanket down like it burned him. He turns to Seunghyun with wide, astonished eyes.  
  
"You forgot."  
  
"I forgot," he confirms. And then they're both snickering, slapping each other on the shoulder to vent their amusement... because Daesung's penchant for sleeping in the nude isn't just something Jiyong made up for laughs.  
  
"Can't even help out a friend without getting an eyeful," Youngbae says once they've calmed. "I'll tell him later that he flashed me. He'll hate that."  
  
"I'll tell him you took a peek at his junk while he was passed out," Seunghyun fires back. "He'll hate that even more."  
  
Youngbae snorts. "If anyone here is dying to get under there with him it's _you_."  
  
Seunghyun turns innocent eyes on him but doesn't deny it.  
  
So Youngbae peels the covers down Daesung's body again, taking care this time to stop at his hips. The moment Daesung is uncovered his shivering takes over, the skin across his arms and chest breaking out in goosebumps. He grabs blindly for the blanket, face scrunching up in distress.  
  
"No, no--" Youngbae says, snatching up his hands and holding them at his sides. "None of that-- _please_ don't make that sound. I know you feel cold, but you're burning up, trust me." And then he's reaching for the pill bottle he'd brought up, twisting off the cap and tipping two tablets into his palm.  
  
"Do you think this has anything to do with that sick whatever-it-was you helped the other day?" Seunghyun wonders aloud, stroking a hand up Daesung's arm, hoping to reclaim his attention.  
  
"I'm not a plant, hyung," Daesung gripes at him through gritted teeth. "I can't catch their diseases."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Just because plants like me doesn't mean I am one."  
  
"I wasn't implying that you were," Seunghyun says, struggling to keep a straight face.  
  
"And it wasn't sick... it was just sad."  
  
"Okay, jeez, sorry." Seunghyun leans over him to point at a small peacock plant on his nightstand. "But look, here, at this one. See?"  
  
Daesung's eyes are just slits when he does as asked, dragging lethargically down the line of his arm until he's reached the plant, taking in its white-striped, wrinkled leaves.  
  
Seunghyun holds his breath, waiting.  
  
Daesung lets go of the blanket he'd been reaching for and crawls its way over the sheets until it's stretching toward the ailing plant, wobbling in the air all the way. The tip of one finger grazes the edge of one large leaf...  
  
...which promptly shrivels up, turns brown, and breaks off its stalk. As if that wasn't bad enough, the fallen leaf cracks in two when it hits the surface of the nightstand, the two sides falling away from each other.  
  
Seunghyun stares down at it, alarmed. Daesung simply stares. Neither of them says a word. Surprisingly, even Youngbae holds his peace.  
  
A few moments of this silence tick by before Seunghyun can't take it anymore.  
  
"Are... are you okay?"  
  
Daesung flops onto his back, his face as green as the calathea. Well, as green as it would be if it were healthy. It's a good look on his plants... not on him.  
  
"Gonna be sick," he says, voice faltering at "sick," and together with Youngbae, Seunghyun bursts into action.  
  
They try to pull him out of bed but he doesn't make it easy, doesn't work with them at all, whimpering when they get him upright and sealing a hand over his mouth-- and then the blanket is falling and bunching up around his hips again but no one is paying any attention to that because Seunghyun is throwing arms around him and lifting, ready to haul him off to the bathroom naked if necessary-- until Youngbae appears with a wastebin, and just in the nick of time.  
  
Afterward, Youngbae presses a glass of water into his hand.  
  
"Thanks," Daesung croaks and takes a cautious sip. Then Youngbae is working back the fingers on his other and tucking two Ibuprofen into his palm.  
  
"You should take these."  
  
Daesung squints down at them, uneasy. "Don't know if I can."  
  
"Try," Seunghyun urges, "Your fever is too high." He rubs a hand down Daesung's long, muscled back, then up again. His skin, though damp with sweat, is searing-- beneath it all his body is a blazing furnace. "Damnit, Daesung, you're too fucking hot and it's not okay."  
  
Youngbae snorts.  
  
"Shut up," Seunghyun growls, shoving him away playfully, "You know what I mean."  
  
Youngbae gives him a cheeky grin, but Daesung's total lack of response tells Seunghyun just how out of it he really is, eyes shut tight again, a little wrinkle between his brows that he wants so badly to smooth away.  
  
"If you can't swallow pills, then... I guess..." Youngbae's eyes light up with a wicked glint. Though he's addressing Daesung, he's looking at Seunghyun when he says, "You don't have any suppositories, do you?"  
  
Seunghyun is halfway to standing, arm pulled back to slug him-- _no fucking way_ \-- when without a sound Daesung throws his head back sharply, hand to his mouth. When he tips forward again, nearly missing the nightstand with the drained glass of water, his palm is empty, the pills gone.  
  
Seunghyun looks to Youngbae, whose wicked grin has shifted into one that is still entirely too smug for his liking. It worked, his comment goaded Daesung into take the meds, but...  
  
"I should still hit you for that," he says, scowling. Youngbae doesn't appear threatened.  
  
"Never said I'd be the one administering it," is his smooth reply. "That honor would be all yours."  
  
Seunghyun gives him the stink eye but stands down. No one is putting anything in anyone's ass today, medicinal or not. But if they were, well... if there's anyone in this room who holds the rights to that end of his boyfriend, it's _him_.  
  
From there they help Daesung get settled back in bed, arranging the covers over him until he seems comfortable, peering up at the two of them with bleary but grateful eyes that make Seunghyun's heart ache for him. He just wants to see him well again.  
  
"Go back to sleep," he tells him and presses a soft kiss into the skin under one sleepy eye, not caring that he has an audience. Youngbae has seen this often enough-- and, in fact, he's often seen far worse.  
  
As he draws back Daesung's gaze drifts around the room, pausing on his wilting plants, his frown deepening  at the sight of them in such a sad state.  
  
Seunghyun knows what needs to be done.  
  
"Do you want us to move them to another room, or..." It can't be helping to have them this close.  
  
"Please," Daesung mumbles, just a shade above a whisper. "They're not... bothering me, not really, but..." He lets his head roll to his right so that he's facing the damaged peacock plant. His face twists up in something like guilt. "...I'm only hurting them."  
  
"It's not your fault," Seunghyun says without thinking-- before remembering that it actually kind of is. "I mean-- it's not like you're doing it on purpose."  
  
Something bumps Seunghyun's hand. It's Daesung's, fingers searching out his and trying to twine them together. Seunghyun scoops it up in a fierce hold.  
  
"On purpose or not, doesn't matter. Take them somewhere else, please. Somewhere safer." The hand in his squeezes once in request. "How do the others look?"  
  
"Better than this little guy," Seunghyun says and resists the urge to stroke a consoling finger down one of the plant's stems. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened earlier; Daesung seems to be holding steady now, but he might be sick again if he has to watch even one of his beloved plants lose more pieces of itself.  
  
"The--" Daesung swallows. "The jade plant? Did you see it?"  
  
"I saw it. It'll be okay." He didn't, but Daesung doesn't have to know that. "It'll be okay as soon as you are."  
  
Daesung sighs and sinks back into his pillow, head lolling to one side, eyes drooping, his hand in Seunghyun's going slack.  
  
"...have to make it up to them later," he murmurs, and even half-asleep it comes across as sincere.  
  
"They'll forgive you," Seunghyun says with a fond smile. Daesung does so much for them. Too bad they can't do the same for him.  
  
Daesung makes a low sound of acknowledgement. It's the last Seunghyun gets out of him before he's drifting away, lost to sleep again.  
  
He spends the moments that follow running through a mental list of reasons why he shouldn't stroke the soft head of hair before him, no matter how badly he wants to pet. Reason number one being that _it just might wake him up._  
  
But... what if a soothing touch helps him sleep? His hand twitches.  
  
"Well, looks like it's just us now," Youngbae says, pulling him from his internal debate. "Think he'll mind if we hang out here awhile? Or should we go? We can watch the game at my place." He looks to Seunghyun for guidance; after all, he spends so much time here it's practically a second home.  
  
"I know he'll be fine, but... I feel like I should stick around. Just in case."  
  
"You're gonna wait 'til I leave and then crawl in with him, aren't you," Youngbae says, pinning him with a look that says _I know what you have planned._  
  
"Of course not. What makes you think I'll wait?"  
  
"You're hopeless." Youngbae grabs him by the shoulders and gives him a playful shake on the way by. "But I'm glad Daesung has you."  
  
"I'm just glad he's willing to have me," is Seunghyun's soft and honest reply, eyes never leaving Daesung's peaceful, sleeping face.  
  
He'll get no ridicule from Youngbae for that, this much he knows. His dongsaeng loves to poke fun at the four of them anytime he's given an opening, pestering them and pouring out affection in provocative ways until they're at wit's end. But he doesn't fool around with authentic emotion, and that confession came straight from the heart.  
  
What he and Daesung have is as real as it gets.  
  
"Well, these plants aren't gonna move themselves," he announces and scoops up the peacock plant-- or _calathea_ as Daesung likes to call it-- mindful of its fragile state. With hands cupping its ceramic pot as carefully as if it were fine china, he sends a silent wish to their friend-- _get some sleep, Daesungie_ \-- and slips out the door into the much brighter hall.  
  
To his wonderment and relief, he feels better instantly-- and just as soon, guilty. It can't be helped. He's stepped out of the sick room and into the sunlight, its rays streaming in through a high window and bathing the hall in light. Its warmth soaks into him and the plant in his hands, doing them both good.  
  
Sunlight... Daesung could probably use a little of that too. But first, sleep.  
  
Seunghyun breathes deep, and when his eyes reopen it's to the sight of a plant that looks moderately more alive than it did just moments ago. He imagines that if it had a face it might be awarding him a thankful, if shy, smile.  
  
"Yeah, me too, buddy," he says, for a moment feeling perfectly at home right where he stands-- alone in the upstairs hallway of his best friend and boyfriend's house, agreeing with a plant. Finding common ground with it. And seeing signs of himself in it, too.  
  
"He'll be okay," he tells the calathea as he carries it downstairs, aiming to convey the same care that Daesung gives to all his growing things, "And so will you."  
  
He may not have the special touch but he has a voice that can be heard, and a heart just as warm.  
  
Well... almost as warm.

 

 

\--

 

 

Hours later, after Youngbae has gone home, Seunghyun pads through the house in his socks and inspects the cluster of potted plants they'd rescued from Daesung's upstairs bedroom. He smiles at what he sees: they're looking better, the brown stain along their edges receding... and he suspects there's more to their improvement than distance alone. It's time he paid his sleeping beauty a visit.  
  
He takes the stairs one quiet step at a time.  
  
Daesung's skin doesn't burn him when he slides under the covers and fastens himself to his heated back. He doesn't groan in discomfort when Seunghyun slings an arm around his bare middle and pulls him close, tightly enough to measure his heartbeat everywhere they touch, his pulse striking a rhythm as steady and strong as Seunghyun has always know him to be. Best of all, his face is free of pain, his earlier aches smoothed away by sleep, the body's best built-in remedy.  
  
Seunghyun doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. Daesung's plants may not recognize or react to him but Daesung does, and that's all that matters. The only connection that Seunghyun really cares about is right here, bundled up in his arms.  
  
As for Daesung, he sighs in contentment, feeling blindly down Seunghyun's arm until he arrives at sharp knuckles and folding a hand over them, fitting their fingers together until they're as tangled up in each other as the ivy that climbs the wall over his front door, always searching for a way in. A way that Seunghyun somehow found, into a heart that gladly receives him.  
  
He doesn't know what he did to deserve this love. But he's learning to nurture it, to tend and water it and give it the care it needs. Daesung is showing him how.  
  
And like all things green, it grows.

 

 

 

 


End file.
